CHAPTER XIV.
Strange peculiarity of the tides--Also of the twilight--Peterkin'sremarkable conduct in embracing a little pig and killing a big sow--Sageremarks on jesting--Also on love.
It was quite a relief to us to breathe the pure air and to enjoy the gladsunshine after our long ramble in the Diamond Cave, as we named it; for,although we did not stay more than half an hour away, it seemed to usmuch longer. While we were dressing, and during our walk home, we didour best to satisfy the curiosity of poor Peterkin, who seemed to regret,with lively sincerity, his inability to dive.
There was no help for it, however, so we condoled with him as we bestcould. Had there been any great rise or fall in the tide of these seas,we might perhaps have found it possible to take him down with us at lowwater; but as the tide never rose or fell more than eighteen inches ortwo feet, this was impossible.
This peculiarity of the tide--its slight rise and fall--had not attractedour observation till some time after our residence on the island. Neitherhad we observed another curious circumstance until we had been some timethere. This was the fact, that the tide rose and fell with constantregularity, instead of being affected by the changes of the moon as inour own country, and as it is in most other parts of the world,--at leastin all those parts with which I am acquainted. Every day and everynight, at twelve o'clock precisely, the tide is at the full; and at sixo'clock every morning and evening it is ebb. I can speak with muchconfidence on this singular circumstance, as we took particular note ofit, and never found it to alter. Of course, I must admit, we had toguess the hour of twelve midnight, and I think we could do this prettycorrectly; but in regard to twelve noon we are quite positive, because weeasily found the highest point that the sun reached in the sky by placingourselves at a certain spot whence we observed the sharp summit of acliff resting against the sky, just where the sun passed.
Jack and I were surprised that we had not noticed this the first few daysof our residence here, and could only account for it by our being so muchtaken up with the more obvious wonders of our novel situation. I havesince learned, however, that this want of observation is a sad and verycommon infirmity of human nature, there being hundreds of persons beforewhose eyes the most wonderful things are passing every day, whonevertheless are totally ignorant of them. I therefore have to record mysympathy with such persons, and to recommend to them a course of conductwhich I have now for a long time myself adopted,--namely, the habit offorcing my attention upon _all_ things that go on around me, and oftaking some degree of interest in them, whether I feel it naturally ornot. I suggest this the more earnestly, though humbly, because I havevery frequently come to know that my indifference to a thing hasgenerally been caused by my ignorance in regard to it.
We had much serious conversation on this subject of the tides; and Jacktold us, in his own quiet, philosophical way, that these tides did greatgood to the world in many ways, particularly in the way of cleansing theshores of the land, and carrying off the filth that was constantly pouredinto the sea there-from; which, Peterkin suggested, was remarkably _tidy_of it to do. Poor Peterkin could never let slip an opportunity to joke,however inopportune it might be: which at first we found rather adisagreeable propensity, as it often interrupted the flow of veryagreeable conversation; and, indeed, I cannot too strongly record mydisapprobation of this tendency in general: but we became so used to itat last that we found it no interruption whatever; indeed, strange tosay, we came to feel that it was a necessary part of our enjoyment (suchis the force of habit), and found the sudden outbursts of mirth,resulting from his humorous disposition, quite natural and refreshing tous in the midst of our more serious conversations. But I must notmisrepresent Peterkin. We often found, to our surprise, that he knewmany things which we did not; and I also observed that those things whichhe learned from experience were never forgotten. From all these things Icame at length to understand that things very opposite and dissimilar inthemselves, when united, do make an agreeable whole; as, for example, wethree on this our island, although most unlike in many things, whenunited, made a trio so harmonious that I question if there ever metbefore such an agreeable triumvirate. There was, indeed, no note ofdiscord whatever in the symphony we played together on that sweet CoralIsland; and I am now persuaded that this was owing to our having been alltuned to the same key, namely, that of _love_! Yes, we loved one anotherwith much fervency while we lived on that island; and, for the matter ofthat, we love each other still.
And while I am on this subject, or rather the subject that just precededit--namely, the tides--I may here remark on another curious naturalphenomenon. We found that there was little or no twilight in thisisland. We had a distinct remembrance of the charming long twilight athome, which some people think the most delightful part of the day, thoughfor my part I have always preferred sunrise; and when we first landed, weused to sit down on some rocky point or eminence, at the close of ourday's work, to enjoy the evening breeze; but no sooner had the sun sunkbelow the horizon than all became suddenly dark. This rendered itnecessary that we should watch the sun when we happened to be outhunting, for to be suddenly left in the dark while in the woods was veryperplexing, as, although the stars shone with great beauty andbrilliancy, they could not pierce through the thick umbrageous boughsthat interlaced above our heads.
But, to return: After having told all we could to Peterkin about theDiamond Cave under Spouting Cliff, as we named the locality, we werewending our way rapidly homewards, when a grunt and a squeal were bornedown by the land breeze to our ears.
"That's the ticket!" was Peterkin's remarkable exclamation, as he startedconvulsively, and levelled his spear.
"Hist!" cried Jack; "these are your friends, Peterkin. They must havecome over expressly to pay you a friendly visit, for it is the first timewe have seen them on this side the island."
"Come along!" cried Peterkin, hurrying towards the wood, while Jack and Ifollowed, smiling at his impatience.
Another grunt and half a dozen squeals, much louder than before, camedown the valley. At this time we were just opposite the small vale whichlay between the Valley of the Wreck and Spouting Cliff.
"I say, Peterkin," cried Jack, in a hoarse whisper.
"Well, what is't?"
"Stay a bit, man. These grunters are just up there on the hill side. Ifyou go and stand with Ralph in the lee of yon cliff, I'll cut roundbehind and drive them through the gorge, so that you'll have a betterchance of picking out a good one. Now, mind you pitch into a fat youngpig, Peterkin," added Jack, as he sprang into the bushes.
"Won't I, just!" said Peterkin, licking his lips, as we took our stationbeside the cliff. "I feel quite a tender affection for young pigs in myheart. Perhaps it would be more correct to say in my s--."
"There they come!" cried I, as a terrific yell from Jack sent the wholeherd screaming down the hill. Now, Peterkin, being unable to hold back,crept a short way up a very steep grassy mound, in order to get a betterview of the hogs before they came up; and just as he raised his headabove its summit, two little pigs, which had outrun their companions,rushed over the top with the utmost precipitation. One of these brushedclose past Peterkin's ear; the other, unable to arrest its headlongflight, went, as Peterkin himself afterwards expressed it, "bash" intohis arms with a sudden squeal, which was caused more by the force of theblow than the will of the animal, and both of them rolled violently downto the foot of the mound. No sooner was this reached than the little pigrecovered its feet, tossed up its tail, and fled shrieking from the spot.But I slang a large stone after it, which, being fortunately well aimed,hit it behind the ear, and felled it to the earth.
"Capital, Ralph! that's your sort!" cried Peterkin, who, to my surpriseand great relief, had risen to his feet. Apparently unhurt, though muchdishevelled, he rushed franticly towards the gorge, which the yells ofthe hogs told us they were now approaching. I had made up my mind that Iwould abstain from killing another, as, if Peterkin should be successful,two we
re more than sufficient for our wants at the present time. Suddenlythey all burst forth,--two or three little round ones in advance, and anenormous old sow with a drove of hogs at her heels.
"Now, Peterkin," said I, "there's a nice little fat one; just spear it."
But Peterkin did not move; he allowed it to pass unharmed. I looked athim in surprise, and saw that his lips were compressed and his eyebrowsknitted, as if he were about to fight with some awful enemy.
"What is it?" I inquired, with some trepidation.
Suddenly he levelled his spear, darted forward, and, with a yell thatnearly froze the blood in my veins, stabbed the old sow to the heart.Nay, so vigorously was it done that the spear went in at one side andcame out at the other!
"Oh, Peterkin!" said I, going up to him, "what have you done?"
"Done? I've killed their great-great-grandmother, that's all," said he,looking with a somewhat awe-struck expression at the transfixed animal.
"Hallo! what's this?" said Jack, as he came up. "Why, Peterkin, you mustbe fond of a tough chop. If you mean to eat this old hog, she'll tryyour jaws, I warrant. What possessed you to stick _her_, Peterkin?"
"Why, the fact is I want a pair of shoes."
"What have your shoes to do with the old hog?' said I, smiling.
"My present shoes have certainly nothing to do with her," repliedPeterkin; "nevertheless she will have a good deal to do with my futureshoes. The fact is, when I saw you floor that pig so neatly, Ralph, itstruck me that there was little use in killing another. Then Iremembered all at once that I had long wanted some leather or toughsubstance to make shoes of, and this old grandmother seemed so tough thatI just made up my mind to stick her, and you see I've done it!"
"That you certainly have, Peterkin," said Jack, as he was examining thetransfixed animal.
We now considered how we were to carry our game home, for, although thedistance was short, the hog was very heavy. At length we hit on the planof tying its four feet together, and passing the spear handle betweenthem. Jack took one end on his shoulder, I took the other on mine, andPeterkin carried the small pig.
Thus we returned in triumph to our bower, laden, as Peterkin remarked,with the glorious spoils of a noble hunt. As he afterwards spoke insimilarly glowing terms in reference to the supper that followed, thereis every reason to believe that we retired that night to our leafy bedsin a high state of satisfaction.